Muhafiz-E-Khan (Tere Bin MeeraSim FF)

27 - Iztiraar

The doors had been opened and they were on the third floor. Outside, heavy cars stopped and chauffeured guests walked inwards into LaudTech a leisurely pace. Only from the elevated vantage point could she see the white clicks of photographers along with ample security for the guests. The music dulled and Meerab finally look a long refreshing breath. Past the bannister, London seemed much prettier when she was happy and drowned in her husband's kisses.

But the moment of calm was disrupted when a hand clasped around her arm, fingers digging into her flesh. While still in the throes of shock, Meerab was yanked backwards until they were face to face and up close. Murtasim's every feature was etched with concern. ''Tumne kaha tha ke mere saath rahou gye?'' (You said you'll stay beside me all night?)

Meerab let out a shuddering breath, startled at the unannounced touch. ''Mujhe dhara diya. Itne zor se kaun keenchta hai?'' (You scared me. Who pulls that hard?)

In realisation, wide shoulders slumped remorsefully. Murtasim mellowed. ''Sorry. Tum nazar nahi aaye, mujhe lagga tumhein kuch ho na gya ho, so I left —'' (You weren't in my eye-line, I feared something might've happened to you.)

''Rayyan got busy so I came for some fresh air,'' Meerab found herself explaining to soothe his nerves.

''Now you know about Amar, you need to be more careful too,'' he lightly scolded, welcoming her closer as his thumb now traced her milky forearm.

The concern was endearing after being alone in ignorance as he grumbled on for days without Meerab knowing why— it all made sense now. ''Waise bhi, kuch ho sakta hai jab tum mere saath ho?'' Then Meerab's hand planted ontop of his wide lapel, smoothing over it with a light lap. ''Is that even possible, baby?'' She peered up, her smile adorable and reaching her eyes.(Anyways, can anything happen when i'm with you?)

All the stress dissipated and Murtasim's finger raised to push the rouge fringe hair off her eyelashes, unveiling the depths of her swirling iris', a whirlpool of mesmerising affection that only existed for him. The moment was intimate, the shared quietness testament to their trust and belief that only strengthened with the lapse of time.

And when he looked down at her hand and the humble diamond on it, a possessive, primal need flared up. ''Dou mujhe,'' he ordered, and Meerab easily obliged, latticing her fingers into his and squeezing tighter than necessary. ''You're not going to leave my side, okay.'' (Give it to me.)

''Okay, Mr Shahnawaz Khan,'' Meerab replied in a cashmere soft whisper, copying the title given to him by his business friends; it brimmed with a reverence she found it feverishly titillating.

''Don't,'' he warned at the show of playfulness seductiveness he found utterly beguiling, especially as she was dolled up for him.

''Kya?'' Meerab mocked a shallow gasp at the warning. (What?)

''There's a long time before we reach home. Yeh chaar din mushkil se guzare hai, aur bardasht na karau,'' he pleaded, a slight strain to his voice. (These couple days have been tough without you, don't test me further when I can't have you yet.)

''What title do you want then, Mariyum ka bhai?''

The blunt question elicited a smirk. ''Nahi, Murtasim is fine.''

''Okay, mera Murtasim,'' Meerab replied with a buttery soft quality to his name, endearingly gentle and yet with wholehearted resolve that he belonged only to her.

The declaration and its implied notions were wholly welcomed and dreamy. It seemed only fitting for someone he had always placed on a pedestal fit for a princess. The reference to their association — to their marriage— triggered Murtasim to recall a recent encounter, sharing, ''Hassan ne abhi abhi mujhe shaadi ki mubarak baat de hai.''  (Hassan just now congratulated me on my marriage.)